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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25894867">Kiss the sweat away to your radio</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/yourbuttervoicedbeau'>yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Songs from the Jukebox [Prompt Fills] [31]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blow Jobs, Blow Jobs in a Car, Car Sex, Early Days, M/M, POV Patrick Brewer, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fill, Semi-Public Sex, Tumblr Prompt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:35:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,676</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25894867</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/yourbuttervoicedbeau</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Patrick feels like a teenager again. Or, well, feels for the first time how he now knows most people felt as a teenager; wild and desperate with wanting. He thought their night of privacy at Stevie’s last week would satiate the need, at least a little bit, but he hadn’t considered that now he <b>knows</b> what David’s body looks like under those sweaters, knows what David’s hands can do when they’re not encumbered by clothing or the lack of horizontal spaces that don’t come with the added complication of either the Roses or Ray.</em>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Patrick Brewer/David Rose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Songs from the Jukebox [Prompt Fills] [31]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775569</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>258</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Kiss the sweat away to your radio</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For an anonymous Tumblr prompt: <a href="https://yourbuttervoicedbeau.tumblr.com/post/624536679852670976/smut-prompts">Smut prompts #83: "How quickly can you come?" and #88: "I’m up for it if you are."</a>. Thank you for the prompt! 💛 </p>
<p>Title is from All Time Low.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Patrick feels like a teenager again. Or, well, feels for the first time how he now knows most people felt as a teenager; wild and desperate with wanting. He thought their night of privacy at Stevie’s last week would satiate the need, at least a little bit, but he hadn’t considered that now he <em>knows</em> what David’s body looks like under those sweaters, knows what David’s hands can do when they’re not encumbered by clothing or the lack of horizontal spaces that don’t come with the added complication of either the Roses or Ray. And now that his imagination has some factual backing to it it’s gone completely haywire, sending him all sorts of delicious mental images at the most inconvenient times. He’s had to jerk off in the store bathroom <em>twice.</em> It’s <em>humiliating.</em></p>
<p class="p1">And now tonight. Tonight, when he picks David up for their date David slides into the passenger seat with a small smile and a kiss on the cheek that Patrick hardly feels because David is wearing <em>those jeans. </em>They’re the jeans David was wearing the day after their first date and David teases Patrick about how tight <em>his</em> jeans are but he has no room to talk, really, because these are— well. It’s not just the fit; it’s the way the pattern on them draws attention to his thighs, and if Patrick thought they were delectable the first time he saw them it’s a thousand times worse now. Because Patrick knows things about those thighs now that he didn’t know then — knows there’s some real muscle there when Patrick grips them frantically, remembers how they feel bracketing his hips while their dicks slide up against each other to a frenzied, messy conclusion. So this time, when he sees David in <em>those jeans</em> his mouth starts actually, literally watering thinking about what lies underneath them.</p>
<p class="p1">But they have dinner reservations in Elmdale, and they haven’t been dating that long and Patrick isn’t sure he wants to hear the answer if he asks David to choose between him and Italian food, so he swallows hard before pulling carefully out of the motel parking lot. He makes it two minutes before he gives in to the urge to reach over and lay a hand on David’s thigh — close to the knee, nothing too dangerous, but David makes a soft, breathy little sound and Patrick can’t stop his hand from flexing, digging into the denim just a little.</p>
<p class="p1">Somehow, he gets them to Antonio’s without parking on the side of the road and climbing into David’s lap, but it’s a close thing. And it’s worth it, because instead of sitting opposite David slides in next to him so they’re crowded into one side of their booth, pushing a knee deliberately into Patrick’s until he takes the hint and places his hand back on David’s leg. He keeps it there until their food arrives and he needs both his hands to eat, but it finds its way back once their plates are cleared. He only needs one hand to eat dessert so, feeling daring, he slides the hand on David’s leg from his knee to about halfway up his thigh and is rewarded for his boldness when David drops his spoon back in his bowl with a clatter.</p>
<p class="p1">“Impatient,” David hisses in his ear but he doesn’t ask Patrick to move his hand as he picks his spoon back up, taking a bite of his tiramisu and making a noise of appreciation that frankly should not be allowed outside of the bedroom. Patrick can’t tear his eyes away and misses his mouth twice with his fork as a result and David is definitely laughing at him, eyes crinkled up and teasing even as he leans forward and <em>licks</em> the chocolate off the corner of Patrick’s mouth, which, <em>God.</em></p>
<p class="p1">“We should go,” David murmurs in a low voice, and Patrick tries and fails to cut him a glare.</p>
<p class="p1">“You’re going to have to give me a minute, now, actually.”</p>
<p class="p1">David actually laughs out loud at that, and settles their bill while Patrick… cools down a little.</p>
<p class="p1">“Do we have to go straight back to Schitt’s Creek?” David asks as they’re leaving the restaurant. When Patrick glances over at him he’s looking straight ahead, a barely noticeable smile tugging at the corner of his lips.</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m open to suggestions,” Patrick tells him as they reach the car. They both slide in and David finally meets his eyes, the smile a little more pronounced.</p>
<p class="p1">“I just thought,” he says, fiddling with his phone, “that I could probably figure out somewhere for us to… park up, for a while. If you wanted. We don’t have to, though!” he hastens to add, as though Patrick is ever going to say no to <em>parking up</em> with David.</p>
<p class="p1">“I’m up for it if you are,” he says, not realising the double entendre until David’s smile turns lascivious.</p>
<p class="p1">“Oh, I know you are,” David almost growls, and Patrick shivers at the tone.</p>
<p class="p1">David starts fiddling with his phone as Patrick pulls out of the parking lot, jumping when the map starts giving him instructions. He follows them carefully, both hands where they belong on the steering wheel to avoid distractions, through Elmdale and up a winding hill road to a secluded parking area.</p>
<p class="p1">Patrick laughs. “What did you search for, ‘makeout points Elmdale’? He’s kidding, but David bites his lip with a guilty smile and a shrug and Patrick can’t keep his hands to himself for a second longer.</p>
<p class="p1">“Come on,” he says, unbuckling his seatbelt. “If we’re doing the makeout point cliché, we’re doing it properly. Back seat.”</p>
<p class="p1">David’s eyes go a little glassy at the tone and he almost tumbles out of the passenger seat in his eagerness, which is definitely something Patrick is going to file away for later. Once they clamber into the back seat, though, there’s a lot of awkward manoeuvring because somehow the Jetta had enough room for Patrick to pack his entire life into when he moved here, but doesn’t have enough room for two fully-grown men to do anything other than sit chastely next to each other, which is frankly just bad design.</p>
<p class="p1">They wind up with Patrick on David’s lap, kissing messily with Patrick’s fingers wound in David’s hair, tugging lightly. He’s grinding down, down, down, and David is pushing up to meet him but it’s not enough, there are too many layers and Patrick doesn’t realise he’s whimpering, actually <em>whimpering</em> which is so goddamn embarrassing, until David runs a soothing hand over his shoulders. He brings a hand to Patrick’s fly, then hesitates.</p>
<p class="p1">“We are technically, sort of, in public right now,” he says carefully. “So… how quickly can you come?”</p>
<p class="p1">Patrick groans, his head dropping to David’s shoulder so hard he hears it make contact. “Ask me that twice more and I’ll probably get there,” he says, far too honest, the back of his neck heating up at the admission but David just stares at him, teeth sinking so hard into his bottom lip it looks painful as he nods quickly.</p>
<p class="p1">“That's so fucking hot, God,” he says before bodily lifting Patrick off him and flipping him around so his back is pressed into the door and <em>Jesus,</em> okay, Patrick is learning a lot of new things about himself in this relationship and apparently he can add being manhandled to the list of Things That Really Do It For Him. And then David is kneeling on the floor, somehow, which is actually pretty impressive considering how tall he is, and he’s making quick work of Patrick’s belt and fly. Patrick lifts up so that David can tug his pants and underwear down and <em>fuck,</em> it’s only once his dick springs free that he realises just how achingly hard he is, the tip of his cock already shiny with precome.</p>
<p class="p1">When David actually <em>licks his lips</em> it takes every fibre of Patrick’s willpower not to come right then. Luckily David is clearly not in the mood to tease because he just leans forward, his hands braced on Patrick’s thighs for balance as he first swipes his tongue over the head and gathers up the liquid there before quickly sinking down with a loud if muffled moan, as though he’s been starving for it.</p>
<p class="p1">And it’s so much, <em>so much, </em>David’s dark hair bobbing in his lap and hot, wet suction around his dick and David’s weight on his thighs and the possibility of getting caught, and it really is almost no time at all before Patrick can feel his orgasm building up. He tugs urgently on David’s hair, trying to warn him, but David just tightens his grip and sinks his mouth down a little further and Patrick wails as he comes, an awful desperate sound that should embarrass him but it feels too good to care, David’s tongue soothing him through the aftershocks before pulling off entirely and resting his face against Patrick’s thigh.</p>
<p class="p1">When the pulse pounding in his ears fades he realises David is panting, almost trembling against his leg. <em>My turn,</em> Patrick thinks, and only as he sits up does he realise that David has at some point worked his cock out of his jeans and is fisting it frantically.</p>
<p class="p1">“David—“ he starts, but realises almost immediately it’s too late as David’s eyes flutter shut, his free hand shooting forward to cup himself as he comes with a loud grunt into his palm. As soon as he’s caught his breath he starts to sit up, looking around but Patrick grabs his wrist and tugs it up to his mouth, letting his lips slide around David’s fingers and tasting him for the first time and <em>fuck.</em> David tastes so goddamn good, because of course he does. He lets the fingers slip out of his mouth, pressing his lips against David’s palm instead.</p>
<p class="p1">“Next time,” Patrick murmurs as David stares up at him, hair wild and lips shining, “I want to get my mouth on you.”</p>
<p class="p1">David just nods, apparently lost for words.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks so much for reading! Come and find me on <a href="http://yourbuttervoicedbeau.tumblr.com">Tumblr</a>.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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